Tonalité : C# minor
Verse 1
Eb
Writer, okay, uh, I got him, just that, uh
Cm
Dm
Back to the lab, wrap in a bag,
Gm
roll me a blunt, pass me a pack,
your dude's goin' in
Eb
I mastered the craft,
Cm
Dm
laugh at the past,
Gm
fo' in the trunk, mash in the gas,
you're too slow to win
Eb
Who's dope as him?
Cm
Dm
Gm
Late in the line, so high,
you would swear he had a license to fly
Eb
Look up, you might even
Cm
see him right in the sky
Gm
So high, I should give skydiving a try
Eb
Know why? I'm getting loot and bread
Cm
Dm
Got these little dudes fed
Gm
Cause this rap shit to me
is easier than Superhead
Eb
That easy?
Cm
When she move to bed, prick,
Dm
I'm on the grind
Grind
Gm
Lyrically inclined,
every sentence get rewinded
Rewinded
Eb
The kid is in his prime Prime
Cm
Dm
A monster on the track
Track
Gm
Taunting all these cats
Where's the competition at?
Where they at?
Eb
They all spin crack
Crack
Cm
Dm
The Carter couldn't match
Gm
Match Sharper than a tack
Whole Harlem on his back Harlem
It's a fact, you couldn't yell
R or shit, it's whack
I helped build the team
and put Harlem on the map
Come holla at a Mack,
Cm
who got this in the raps
Gm
The next album
Cm
Eb
I had your girl polishin' his plaits
Cm
Uh, uh, then it's right to the street
Dm
Gm
Light on my feet,
goonies that'll light you for cheap
Eb
Wipe you deceased,
Cm
knife you to sleep
Dm
Put some sneaks
Gm
even though my pockets deep
Eb
It's Barry White on the beat, sheesh
Cm
I'm a beast with a flow like a jazz
Dm
Gm
Puss the game so weak
that the throne's up for grabs
Eb
So I'm low on the ass,
Cm
Gm
with the toast on my abs
Waitin' for the spit
so I can put the hoe in the bag
Eb
It's sad, but nigga,
Cm
Dm
I'm a pro with the past
Gm
Put the mic there,
you're washed up and old as my dad
Eb
You're loaded with swag,
Cm
Dm
you couldn't fly without a pilot
Gm
You're bummed out
and better off finding you a stylist
Eb
Cm
The future is me, and tuners can be
Dm
Gm
Ruge an d T, shoot you for free,
salute to the G
Eb
Who's nothing but nicer,
Cm
gunnin' the cypher
Dm
Gm
Bot tom line,
ain't nobody out as hungry as Ryder
Cm
Uh! Huh, you hear that, man?
Gm
Eb
Y 'all can't fuck with me at all, man
Cm
Eb
Gm
Cm
I got this shit on lock and key
And I think I might've lost the key,
so y 'all assed out, man
Huh
Gm
Let me get my zone though, man
Let me finish smokin' this purple,
countin' this money
And, uh, turn the music up
and get in my zone, man
Let's do it
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsEb Cm Dm Gm
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